Establish and adjust the marketing mix Essay Example for Free

Establish and adjust the marketing mix Essay Promotions are not just aimed at increasing usage of the products. Followings are five other specific promotional aims. Sales Growth There have two term of campaigns, long term and short term campaigns. In a short-term, the main aim would be to drive revenues or cash flow, it also trigger the buyer actions. In the long-term campaign, the main aim would be intended to lead optimized profit margins. Especially for a new business they might aim to build a customer base in order to cover new start-up business costs and maintain a sustainable business. For the established companies, their aim would be to generate more business during slow or off season periods, and to expand the business into the newer markets. Brand Recognition One of the most popular promotional objectives would be building or maintaining brand recognition. The objective is to let customers or people know and well recognized your brand logo, other symbols or characters. Customers identify it with your company and hopefully associated with good impression to it, this might lead to customers will advertise our brand to his/her friends. It also gives people something to remember you by , that helps the business stand out even more. Understanding and connecting with the image of your brand is critical to long-term customer’s loyalty and profits. Purchase Intent As customers become more familiar with your brand, the next stage is to motivate purchase intent. The goal is to eliminate, neutralize or blocks the efforts of competitors to grab market share. You need to lure customers away from aggressive competitors. Promotional activities can be used such as refreshing trial use, encouraging existing customers to consume more quantity it occurs when customers are satisfied and can see no reason to buy  form another company and more frequency and getting customers to switch from competing options. Some customers are so satisfied with your services they cannot imagine shopping somewhere else A variety of promotional tools are used in this endeavor, including free trial offers or first-time buyer discounts Create Awareness Increased market awareness is a primary promotional objective. A mature product that is providing something new such as a product improvement or enhancement can also turn to promotion. A product thats new to the marketplace will need promotion to be introduced to consumers. In all these cases, the objective is to make noise in the market that results in sales. Goodwill One ongoing objective of companies is to promote goodwill with the public and also public relation campaign. Staying active in community activities and giving to charities are common promotional tools with public relationship. Coinciding with building and maintaining goodwill, public relationship and other promotional campaigns are sometimes used to combat negative publicity already festering. Wal-Mart often uses advertising to promote positive attributes of the company in the face of criticism for some of its business practices.

The Lottery: Examples Of Literary Terms, And A Journal Entry Essay

A. 1) The tone, mood or atmosphere in the story begins with that of happiness and euphoria, by setting us up with a wonderful day that most everyone would enjoy. (Quote: â€Å"The morning of June 27th was clear and sunny, with the fresh warmth of a full-summer day†¦Ã¢â‚¬ [pg147] ) However, later on in the story, it takes a different tone, and by the very end the tone is that of panic, disdain and fear. (Quote: â€Å"‘It isn’t fair, it isn’t right,’ Mrs. Hutchinson screamed, and then they were upon her.† [pg 155] ) 2) The conflict in this story is person versus environment (society) And to a lesser extent, person versus person. (Quotes: â€Å"I tell you it wasn’t fair, you didn’t give him time enough to chose. Everybody saw that.† [pg154] â€Å"‘Be a good sport, Tessie,’ Mrs. Delecroix called, and Mrs’ Graves said, â€Å"‘All of us took the same chance.’†[pg153] ) 3) The point of view is semi-omniscient. 4) One example of foreshadowing in this story is when Tessie is late to the draw and everyone is picking on her, this shows you that she is more of a main character and that she is going to come up later in the story. (Quote: â€Å"She came hurriedly into the square†¦Ã¢â‚¬ËœClean forgot what day it was’† [pg150] ) Another example is when she gets picked the for the first draw, this again shows us that she is going to come up later in the story again with an important part. And it also re-assures us that the previous foreshadowing was true. (Quote: â€Å"People began to look around to see the Hutchinsons. Bill Hutchinson...

Chapter 2 The Scar

Harry lay flat on his back, breathing hard as though he had been running. He had awoken from a vivid dream with his hands pressed over his face. The old scar on his forehead, which was shaped like a bolt of lightning, was burning beneath his fingers as though someone had just pressed a white-hot wire to his skin. He sat up, one hand still on his scar, the other hand reaching out in the darkness for his glasses, which were on the bedside table. He put them on and his bedroom came into clearer focus, lit by a faint, misty orange light that was filtering through the curtains from the street lamp outside the window. Harry ran his fingers over the scar again. It was still painful. He turned on the lamp beside him, scrambled out of bed, crossed the room, opened his wardrobe, and peered into the mirror on the inside of the door. A skinny boy of fourteen looked back at him, his bright green eyes puzzled under his untidy black hair. He examined the lightning-bolt scar of his reflection more closely. It looked normal, but it was still stinging. Harry tried to recall what he had been dreaming about before he had awoken. It had seemed so real†¦There had been two people he knew and one he didn't†¦He concentrated hard, frowning, trying to remember†¦ The dim picture of a darkened room came to him†¦There had been a snake on a hearth rug†¦a small man called Peter, nicknamed Wormtail†¦and a cold, high voice†¦the voice of Lord Voldemort. Harry felt as though an ice cube had slipped down into his stomach at the very thought†¦ He closed his eyes tightly and tried to remember what Voldemort had looked like, but it was impossible†¦All Harry knew was that at the moment when Voldemort's chair had swung around, and he, Harry, had seen what was sitting in it, he had felt a spasm of horror, which had awoken him†¦or had that been the pain in his scar? And who had the old man been? For there had definitely been an old man; Harry had watched him fall to the ground. It was all becoming confused. Harry put his face into his hands, blocking out his bedroom, trying to hold on to the picture of that dimly lit room, but it was like trying to keep water in his cupped hands; the details were now trickling away as fast as he tried to hold on to them†¦Voldemort and Wormtail had been talking about someone they had killed, though Harry could not remember the name†¦and they had been plotting to kill someone else†¦him! Harry took his face out of his hands, opened his eyes, and stared around his bedroom as though expecting to see something unusual there. As it happened, there was an extraordinary number of unusual things in this room. A large wooden trunk stood open at the foot of his bed, revealing a cauldron, broomstick, black robes, and assorted spellbooks. Rolls of parchment littered that part of his desk that was not taken up by the large, empty cage in which his snowy owl, Hedwig, usually perched. On the floor beside his bed a book lay open; Harry had been reading it before he fell asleep last night. The pictures in this book were all moving. Men in bright orange robes were zooming in and out of sight on broomsticks, throwing a red ball to one another. Harry walked over to the book, picked it up, and watched one of the wizards score a spectacular goal by putting the ball through a fifty-foot-high hoop. Then he snapped the book shut. Even Quidditch – in Harry's opinion, the best sport in the world – couldn't distract him at the moment. He placed Flying with the Cannons on his bedside table, crossed to the window, and drew back the curtains to survey the street below. Privet Drive looked exactly as a respectable suburban street would be expected to look in the early hours of Saturday morning. All the curtains were closed. As far as Harry could see through the darkness, there wasn't a living creature in sight, not even a cat. And yet†¦and yet†¦Harry went restlessly back to the bed and sat down on it, running a finger over his scar again. It wasn't the pain that bothered him; Harry was no stranger to pain and injury. He had lost all the bones from his right arm once and had them painfully regrown in a night. The same arm had been pierced by a venomous foot-long fang not long afterward. Only last year Harry had fallen fifty feet from an airborne broomstick. He was used to bizarre accidents and injuries; they were unavoidable if you attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and had a knack for attracting a lot of trouble. No, the thing that was bothering Harry was the last time his scar had hurt him, it had been because Voldemort had been close by†¦But Voldemort couldn't be here, now†¦The idea of Voldemort lurking in Privet Drive was absurd, impossible†¦ Harry listened closely to the silence around him. Was he half expecting to hear the creak of a stair or the swish of a cloak? And then he jumped slightly as he heard his cousin Dudley give a tremendous grunting snore from the next room. Harry shook himself mentally; he was being stupid. There was no one in the house with him except Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley, and they were plainly still asleep, their dreams untroubled and painless. Asleep was the way Harry liked the Dursleys best; it wasn't as though they were ever any help to him awake. Uncle Vernon, Aunt Petunia, and Dudley were Harry's only living relatives. They were Muggles who hated and despised magic in any form, which meant that Harry was about as welcome in their house as dry rot. They had explained away Harry's long absences at Hogwarts over the last three years by telling everyone that he went to St. Brutus's Secure Center for Incurably Criminal Boys. They knew perfectly well that, as an underage wizard, Harry wasn't allowed to use magic outside Hogwarts, but they were still apt to blame him for anything that went wrong about the house. Harry had never been able to confide in them or tell them anything about his life in the wizarding world. The very idea of going to them when they awoke, and telling them about his scar hurting him, and about his worries about Voldemort, was laughable. And yet it was because of Voldemort that Harry had come to live with the Dursleys in the first place. If it hadn't been for Voldemort, Harry would not have had the lightning scar on his forehead. If it hadn't been for Voldemort, Harry would still have had parents†¦. Harry had been a year old the night that Voldemort – the most powerful Dark wizard for a century, a wizard who had been gaining power steadily for eleven years – arrived at his house and killed his father and mother. Voldemort had then turned his wand on Harry; he had performed the curse that had disposed of many full-grown witches and wizards in his steady rise to power – and, incredibly, it had not worked. Instead of killing the small boy, the curse had rebounded upon Voldemort. Harry had survived with nothing but a lightning-shaped cut on his forehead, and Voldemort had been reduced to something barely alive. His powers gone, his life almost extinguished, Voldemort had fled; the terror in which the secret community of witches and wizards had lived for so long had lifted, Voldemort's followers had disbanded, and Harry Potter had become famous. It had been enough of a shock for Harry to discover, on his eleventh birthday, that he was a wizard; it had been even more disconcerting to find out that everyone in the hidden wizarding world knew his name. Harry had arrived at Hogwarts to find that heads turned and whispers followed him wherever he went. But he was used to it now: At the end of this summer, he would be starting his fourth year at Hogwarts, and Harry was already counting the days until he would be back at the castle again. But there was still a fortnight to go before he went back to school. He looked hopelessly around his room again, and his eye paused on the birthday cards his two best friends had sent him at the end of July. What would they say if Harry wrote to them and told them about his scar hurting? At once, Hermione Granger's voice seemed to fill his head, shrill and panicky. â€Å"Your scar hurt? Harry, that's really serious†¦Write to Professor Dumbledore! nd I'll go and check Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions†¦Maybe there's something in there about curse scars†¦.† Yes, that would be Hermione's advice: Go straight to the headmaster of Hogwarts, and in the meantime, consult a book. Harry stared out of the window at the inky blue-black sky. He doubted very much whether a book could help him now. As far as he knew, he was the only living person to have survived a curse like Voldemort's; it was highly unlikely, therefore, that he would find his symptoms listed in Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions. As for informing the headmaster, Harry had no idea where Dumbledore went during the summer holidays. He amused himself for a moment, picturing Dumbledore, with his long silver beard, full length wizard's robes, and pointed hat, stretched out on a beach somewhere, rubbing suntan lotion onto his long crooked nose. Wherever Dumbledore was, though, Harry was sure that Hedwig would be able to find him; Harry's owl had never yet failed to deliver a letter to anyone, even without an address. But what would he write? Dear Professor Dumbledore, Sorry to bother you, but my scar hurt this morning. Yours sincerely, Harry Potter. Even inside his head the words sounded stupid. And so he tried to imagine his other best friend, Ron Weasley's, reaction, and in a moment, Ron's red hair and long-nosed, freckled face seemed to swim before Harry, wearing a bemused expression. â€Å"Your scar hurt? But†¦but You-Know-Who can't be near you now, can he? I mean†¦you'd know, wouldn't you? He'd be trying to do you in again, wouldn't be? I dunno, Harry, maybe curse scars always twinge a bit†¦I'll ask Dad†¦Ã¢â‚¬  Mr. Weasley was a fully qualified wizard who worked in the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office at the Ministry of Magic, but he didn't have any particular expertise in the matter of curses, as far as Harry knew. In any case, Harry didn't like the idea of the whole Weasley family knowing that he, Harry, was getting jumpy about a few moments' pain. Mrs. Weasley would fuss worse than Hermione, and Fred and George, Ron's sixteen year old twin brothers, might think Harry was losing his nerve. The Weasleys were Harry's favorite family in the world; he was hoping that they might invite him to stay any time now (Ron had mentioned something about the Quidditch World Cup), and he somehow didn't want his visit punctuated with anxious inquiries about his scar. Harry kneaded his forehead with his knuckles. What he really wanted (and it felt almost shameful to admit it to himself) was someone like – someone like a parent: an adult wizard whose advice he could ask without feeling stupid, someone who cared about him, who had had experience with Dark Magic†¦. And then the solution came to him. It was so simple, and so obvious, that he couldn't believe it had taken so long – Sirius. Harry leapt up from the bed, hurried across the room, and sat down at his desk; he pulled a piece of parchment toward him, loaded his eagle-feather quill with ink, wrote Dear Sirius, then paused, wondering how best to phrase his problem, still marveling at the fact that he hadn't thought of Sirius straight away. But then, perhaps it wasn't so surprising – after all, he had only found out that Sirius was his godfather two months ago. There was a simple reason for Sirius's complete absence from Harry's life until then – Sirius had been in Azkaban, the terrifying wizard jail guarded by creatures called dementors, sightless, soul-sucking fiends who had come to search for Sirius at Hogwarts when he had escaped. Yet Sirius had been innocent – the murders for which he had been convicted had been committed by Wormtail, Voldemort's supporter, whom nearly everybody now believed dead. Harry, Ron, and Hermione knew otherwise, however; they had come face-to-face with Wormtail only the previous year, though only Professor Dumbledore had believed their story. For one glorious hour, Harry had believed that he was leaving the Dursleys at last, because Sirius had offered him a home once his name had been cleared. But the chance had been snatched away from him – Wormtail had escaped before they could take him to the Ministry of Magic, and Sirius had had to flee for his life. Harry had helped him escape on the back of a hippogriff called Buckbeak, and since then, Sirius had been on the run. The home Harry might have had if Wormtail had not escaped had been haunting him all summer. It had been doubly hard to return to the Dursleys knowing that he had so nearly escaped them forever. Nevertheless, Sirius had been of some help to Harry, even if he couldn't be with him. It was due to Sirius that Harry now had all his school things in his bedroom with him. The Dursleys had never allowed this before; their general wish of keeping Harry as miserable as possible, coupled with their fear of his powers, had led them to lock his school trunk in the cupboard under the stairs every summer prior to this. But their attitude had changed since they had found out that Harry had a dangerous murderer for a godfather – for Harry had conveniently forgotten to tell them that Sirius was innocent. Harry had received two letters from Sirius since he had been back at Privet Drive. Both had been delivered, not by owls (as was usual with wizards), but by large, brightly colored tropical birds. Hedwig had not approved of these flashy intruders; she had been most reluctant to allow them to drink from her water tray before flying off again. Harry, on the other hand, had liked them; they put him in mind of palm trees and white sand, and he hoped that, wherever Sirius was (Sirius never said, in case the letters were intercepted), he was enjoying himself. Somehow, Harry found it hard to imaging dementors surviving for long in bright sunlight, perhaps that was why Sirius had gone South. Sirius's letters, which were now hidden beneath the highly useful loose floorboards under Harry's bed, sounded cheerful, and in both of them he had reminded Harry to call on him if ever Harry needed to. Well, he needed to right now, all right†¦. Harry's lamp seemed to grow dimmer as the cold gray light that precedes sunrise slowly crept into the room. Finally, when the sun had risen, when his bedroom walls had turned gold, and when sounds of movement could be heard from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's room, Harry cleared his desk of crumpled pieces of parchment and reread his finished letter. Dear Sirius, Thanks for your last letter. That bird was enormous; it could hardly get through my window. Things are the same as usual here. Dudley's diet isn't going too well. My aunt found him smuggling doughnuts into his room yesterday. They told him they'd have to cut his pocket money if he keeps doing it, so he got really angry and chucked his PlayStation out of the window. That's a sort of computer thing you can play games on. Bit stupid really, now he hasn't even got Mega-Mutilation Part Three to take his mind off things. I'm okay, mainly because the Dursleys are terrified you might turn up and turn them all into bats if I ask you to. A weird thing happened this morning, though. My scar hurt again. Last time that happened it was because Voldemort was at Hogwarts. But I don't reckon he can be anywhere near me now, can he? Do you know if curse scars sometimes hurt years afterward? I'll send this with Hedwig when she gets back; she's off hunting at the moment. Say hello to Buckbea k for me. Harry Yes, thought Harry, that looked all right. There was no point putting in the dream; he didn't want it to look as though he was too worried. He folded up the parchment and laid it aside on his desk, ready for when Hedwig returned. Then he got to his feet, stretched, and opened his wardrobe once more. Without glancing at his reflection he started to get dressed before going down to breakfast.

Ethical Issues Faced By Enron Should Have Be Aware Of...

Facing Ethical Problems Head On Enron should have be aware of certain risk factors can lead to unethical behavior. Top management must adhere and emulate the highest ethical standards. In order to stop unethical behavior within an organization, there must be a way employees to discuss their experiences with someone outside the organization. This creates a firewall between employees and management where fear of retribution for their actions does not exist. Addressing unethical behavior quickly and thoroughly is imperative in order to move the company forward (Anand, Ashforth, Joshi, 2005). An organization should craft a Code of Ethics rooted in reality and with the input of employees, managers, and executives. A zero tolerance attitude and environment must prevail regardless of the cost or consequence if the code of ethics is breached. Enron had numerous opportunities to address and eradicate their ethical conundrums. Both management and employees chose to avoid tackling their issues as demonstrated by a survey conducted in 2007 by the Ethics Resource Center which noted that nearly half of Enron employees witnessed questionable ethical behavior and chose not to let management know of their discovery (Ethics Resource Center, 2007). Evaluations of job performance that perpetuate a win at all cost environment must be eradicated. Most organizations have some sort of rewards based system which demonstrates to the leaders and employees of an organization how to act,Show MoreRelatedEthics Is Boring And Uninteresting Essay1985 Words   |  8 Pagesnews. The ethical dilemmas that many face are not dilemmas that children could solve. They are complex issues that require serious thought about consequence and resolution. McLemore explains that his book is a guide for ethics in a world where people believe they are ethical experts. The correct decision for an ethical dilemma is not always clear. 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